Summer Thunder
by KHutchinson
Summary: Okay, so it was just a kiss. Just a simple, stupid kiss...but, somehow, it changed EVERYTHING. An angsty reincarnation fic starring Nuriko, Tasuki, Hotohori, and a few surprise guests. ^^ (beware of shounen ai)
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer:  Not mine.  No, really.  Really.  Stop calling.

**Summer Thunder**

by Elijah's Quill

            I rode home feeling stupid and alone.  The kiss was still hot on my lips, and my hands were shaking so badly that I could barely grip the handlebars.  What the hell was that, anyway?  I shook my head again, felt the tears burning in my eyes and blinked them away.  God, that was just what I needed, to get all teary and crash into a telephone pole or something.  I sucked in a deep breath and pushed away the need to cry.  And, hey, all those years of emotional suppression turned out to be pretty useful.  I held it in until I'd skidded up the driveway, tugged open the garage door, shoved the ten-speed in the corner, and retreated back into the house.  And, then, like a floodgate slamming open, it all came pouring out.

            I sank to my knees on the living room carpet, just inside the door, and leaned my back against the wall and cried.  I felt weak and ashamed and embarrassed, and it was all I could do to keep the sobs quiet enough so Dad wouldn't come thudding down the stairs to see what was going on.  Knowing the way I cry--big, gaspy, high-pitched sobs--he'd probably think it was Kory or something, back from her date and full of usual adolescent heartache.  Wouldn't he be pleased, to come clomping down those stairs and find his teenage son curled up on the carpet sobbing into a party napkin?  Oh, yes.  He'd be just bursting with fatherly pride.

            I came under control with that thought, even though I was far from done.  But, again, emotional suppression is a talent not easily lost.  I breathed deeply, I wiped away the tears, and I thought about other things--to help myself out with that, I plopped down on the couch and switched on the TV.  Of course, it was pretty late--Conan was even over by now--so, there was probably nothing on but infomercials and whatever was on TV Land and Nick at Nite, but hey, it was something.  Distraction was good.  

            Kory came in when I was about twenty minutes into a Laverne and Shirley marathon, and from the way the mascara was dripping down to her chin, I gathered she'd had about as stellar an evening as I had.

            "Hey," I said as she flopped down beside me.

            She gave me a quick nod, then leaned back and pressed a hand over her eyes.  Of course, I'd already seen how puffy and bloodshot they were, and the trail of black sweeping down her cheeks didn't do much to thicken the mystery.  "Hey," she said softly.  "What're you doing back so early?  Thought you were at some late night picnic or something."  
            I felt my cheeks coloring and was thankful that she couldn't see me.  "I didn't feel like staying," I lied.  "What happened on your date?"  
            Kory gave a short, bitter laugh.  "Oh, not much.  Sean finally figured out that I wasn't going to sleep with him and decided to explore 'other options.'"

            I shook my head, but I could've told her three months ago that the guy was a jerk.  But, hey, what girl listens to her older brother's advice, anyway?  Well, mine used to...but, that's ancient history, now.

            "That's too bad," I said aloud.  "He at least have the decency to drive you home?"  
            Kory shrugged.  By now, she'd taken the hand off of her eyes and was combing absently at her hair, brushing it out over her shoulders in silky waves of violet.  "I took a cab.  He offered, of course, but..."  She shrugged again.  "I didn't like the way he was looking at me.  I never should've worn this stupid skirt."  
            I managed a little grin.  "I told you it was too short."  
            Kory stood up, smoothing at the thigh-length fabric as she moved, and offered a wan smile.  "So, maybe next time I oughta listen to you.  Anyway, it looks like you had a bad enough night yourself.  I told you not to go to that picnic."  
            "Touché," I murmured.  "All right, so maybe we both have some listening to do."  
            "You wanna talk about it?"  She was fighting a yawn; I could see it twitching at her jaw muscles.  Of course, I was pretty tired myself--crying'll do that to you--but, I doubted I'd be able to sleep, anyway.  Kory, on the other hand...

            I shook my head, managed an encouraging smile.  "Don't worry about it."  And, because I knew she _ would_ worry without some kind of closure:  "I just had a bad night.  Obnoxious drunk guys and stuff, you know."  
            Well, that was _part_ of the truth, anyway.

            Her eyes narrowed a little.  "You sure?"  
            "Positive.  Really.  Don't worry about it."  

            "Okaaaay," she said slowly.  "Night, Ryan."

            "Night, Kory."

            She wasn't buying it, of course--we weren't all that close anymore, but she knew me well enough to know when I was upset, and now was most certainly one of those times.  But, she also knew that there were times when I just wanted to be left alone to wallow, and so she left me alone.   I heard those clompy sandals going up the stairs, and a few seconds later her door clicked shut.

            I stayed up watching Laverne and Shirley until the sky was just starting to get pink, and then I dragged myself upstairs and flopped onto my bed.  The room was dark and cool, only a hint of light creeping through the blinds, and I was asleep almost as soon as my head touched the pillow.  I didn't think about the fact that the ring was still on my finger until I woke up several hours later.  

*****

            The lawnmower woke me up.  I'd been having a nice, unrelated dream about finally going mountain climbing, but you know how sometimes things filter in?  Well, let's just say that the rest of my climbing team was as shocked as I was to find that swarm of killer bees chasing us up the side of Everest.  Anyway, I snapped out of it after a few frightening moments of being chased through rocky snow drifts, and sat up in my bed with a gasp.  I was soaked in sweat and shaking, but the sight of my new Lord of the Rings poster staring calmly at me from across the room was enough to ground me in reality, draw me out of the dream.  The fact that I could hear Ken swearing at the lawnmower through the closed window helped a lot, too.

            I sat there breathing hard for a few minutes, staring at Frodo's head like I was afraid he was going to transform into a giant honey bee, and then finally regained control and got out of bed.  The floor was cold--I'd been trying to get Dad to put carpeting in for years, but there was always some other project to hold his attention.  And, hey, I was gonna be out of here soon, anyway, so no point now.  

            I mulled on that for awhile, wondering how I'd ever come to this point in my life--I was a senior, now!  Good God!--and then, the sound of the screen door slamming downstairs jerked me out of it.  Ken's swearing echoed from below me, even as the lawnmower buzzed resolutely onwards.

            I changed quickly, throwing on a plain white tanktop, jean shorts, flip-flops, and sunglasses (perched on the top of my head for now), and spent a few seconds combing through my hair.  It was getting long, nearly to my shoulders--I made a mental note to get Kory to cut it for me, then tugged it back into a crude ponytail and dashed out the door.  By the time I managed to trip my way downstairs (flip-flops are hard to run in, you know), Ken was on his way out the door again, but he heard me and stopped.  The lawnmower was louder down here, buzzing in through the open windows and the screen door, so yelling was, unfortunately, necessary.

            "Ry!" he shouted when he saw me, turning and coming back into the kitchen.  "Finally @#*(&$ up, huh?  Sleeping @#($*& beauty!"  

            I winced as the profanities echoed through the house like a grand concert hall--but, I reminded myself, it was a Monday.  Dad was at work, and Kory was probably already at the mall with Karen, which meant that I was the only family member around to be offended by Ken's language.  And...well, I didn't offend easily.

            "You mowing the lawn?" I yelled.

            Ken nodded, dashing a quick hand through the fiery tufts of his hair.  "Yeah!  Usually do it on @(#*$&@ Saturday, but I couldn't make it, so I'm doin' it now!"  
            "Oh!" I replied loudly.  "Shouldn't you get back to it, then?"  
            "Right!  That's what I was doin'!  But, first, I wanted to ask you what the @#$(*& you were thinkin' last night, man!  You left way @$(*& early, didn't ya!?"

            I frowned.  Ken had been at the picnic??  God, what if he'd seen...  Suddenly remembering the ring that still bit into my finger, I shoved my hand into my pocket, tried to force the blush from my cheeks.  "Let's talk about it sometime when we don't have to yell!" I yelled.  

            Ken nodded.  "Okay!  Lemonade break in twenty minutes!  See ya then, Ry!"  
            He turned, then, shoved open the door, and jogged out into the yard.  I crept to the screen to watch him, studying the strength and certainty to his steps, the confident tilt to his chin, the way a loose plaid flannel shirt, white tank top, and jean shorts somehow didn't make him look ragged or underdressed.  

            Ken was certainly a mystery.  

            I turned away just as the usual stream of lawnmower-inspired obscenities flooded out, strode over to the fridge and tugged it open.  The door was covered in magnets--Mom'd had a small collection going, and Kory'd been adding to it ever since she died--but, three spots had been cleared for our school pictures, mine, Kory's, and Rick's.  Of course, we hadn't seen Rick since he moved to West Virginia for college a few months ago, but I figured his picture would stay on the fridge until he came back or the refrigerator was demolished, whichever came first.  

---

(More to come soon.  Until then, let me know what you think, ne?)


	2. Chapter Two

AN:  There's a little swearing in this chapter, as well as a bucketload of Nuriko angst.  Hey, it's not all smiles and sunshine in the real world, you know.  Anyway, thanks to Purple Mouse and Ryuuen for reviewing.  I'm enjoying writing this, despite it's darker passages, and I hope that shows.  If not...eh, well _I_ know I am, so nyeh.

**Summer Thunder**

**Chapter 2**

            I hung around the kitchen for awhile, pouring myself a bowl of frosted mini-wheats and slopping milk all over the table, and then I trudged back into the living room and sank onto the couch.  It was about two o'clock by now, and the sunshine was just starting to pale into late afternoon, to take on that grainy quality that always reminded me of old photographs.  The light was starting to fade away into night, even this early in the day.  My mind made the inevitable connection with irritating speed:  _Just like your life is fading into death, _it hissed.  _And, you're only eighteen.  You can barely get from one day to the next now.  How in the hell are you gonna get through the rest of your life, huh?_

            _Thanks_, I answered it darkly.  _Like I don't have enough to be depressed about already._

            But, brutal as it was, it was true.  My life didn't feel like much more than a formality these days, just another habit I'd fallen into and couldn't escape.  I lived because I'd always lived, and because I didn't know what else to do.  The fact that my personal life was growing more complicated by the day didn't help matters much, either.  

            With that cheery thought, I flopped sideways onto the couch cushions, closed my eyes and tried to remember those distant moments of happiness.  There'd been times, I knew, when I'd lived life with passion and love and contentment.  There'd been times when I'd gotten up at five o'clock in the morning because I was so excited to be awake and living.  There'd been times when I'd felt immense, inhibition-free emotions, love and hate and happiness and anger and joy.  And, even though it felt so unlikely and alien to me now, I knew that there had been times when I'd lived away from this dark rift of mediocrity and nothingness.  But, now?  The path I was on didn't lift towards the skies anymore, didn't twist or turn or go anywhere by forwards.  It was straight, flat, and lifeless.  _I _was lifeless.

            I drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly through my nostrils.

            But, last night, somehow, something had changed.

            It wasn't a violent change.  Most people, I thought, wouldn't have noticed it until much later--someone like Ken, for example, would probably be about forty-five and starting to grey before it even trickled into his head that something was different.  And, it wasn't that I was smarter, either.  I was just more observant, sometimes to a fault.

            _You're a damn weirdo, Ryan_, I thought a little sadly.  _Normal eighteen-year-olds are thinking about girls and cars and getting into college.  But, you?  Nooooo.  You're pondering thought and consciousness and the futility of human existence.  No wonder Mom left you.  No fucking wonder._

            I groaned inwardly.  Why did it always have to be about her?  Why did every damn thing in my life have to cycle back to her and her death?  It was _six years ago_, damn it.  Six years.  Things had changed--_I_ had changed.  How could I still feel responsible for that, after all this time, after all I'd come to realize and understand?  
            I shook away the thoughts, tried to focus on something else.  Unfortunately, the only thing near enough to the top of my mind to think about was--I swallowed hard--last night.  The picnic.  The place where everything changed.

            I didn't want to remember.  I didn't even want to think about thinking about it, but my mind had other ideas.  Before I knew it, I was knee deep in remembering, lying sideways on the couch with my legs slung up over the top and my head bent back against the headrest.  The lawnmower still buzzed faithfully onwards outside, not fading even as the past wrapped around my throat like a hangman's noose and pulled.

*****

            It was around ten o'clock when I skidded to a stop at the top of the hill, parked my ten-speed against a thick maple and looked towards the picnic.  I wasn't sure exactly whose party it was, to tell the truth--I'd been invited by a friend who'd been invited by a friend of the party-thrower.  I hadn't even planned on going, really, until Kyle grabbed me by the shoulder and begged me (on bended knee mind you) to come.  I usually didn't bother with parties, particularly ones thrown by people I'd never met before, and even more particularly when I was pretty sure there was going to be alcohol present.  Kyle wasn't a drinker, either, but he never seemed to be able to understand just why I hated it so much.  But, then, I guess no one would know, really, unless they knew me, or knew my mom.  

_            She drank because I was a disappointment.  And, she died because she drank.  _

            Already, I could hear the sounds of happy drunken shouts coming from up ahead, the faint echoes of some rock song I'd never heard before bouncing off the horizon.  Frowning a little, I peered up ahead.  

            I was standing on the top of a huge grassy plateau (owned by the anonymous party-thrower, I gathered).  Where I was standing, there was a small grove of trees, along with a few gravel-strewn parking spots and what looked like an outhouse, but up ahead, I could see that a huge tent had been put up.  Granted, it wasn't _exactly_ a tent--more like a huge canvas sheet stretched over a bunch of grounded poles--but, it was covered in flashing Christmas lights and colorful decorations that gave it a carnival feel.  It looked extravagant, whatever it was--there were lights strung up inside, and even a few spotlights bathing the grass all around the tent in a surreal white glow.  As such, I could see a handful of picnic guests, even from this distance.  Guys and girls, some in pairs and some in groups, dancing and laughing and singing and eating.  And...  My heart suddenly seemed to clench up in my chest.  And, drinking.

            A million tiny memories flickered into my mind with the sight, stung me all over again.

            Mom, sipping from the flask in her purse when she thought I wasn't looking.  Mom, lying on the couch with a glass of whiskey cradled in her fingers, staring blankly at the TV.  Mom, yelling incoherently at us over a foaming glass of beer.  Mom, kicking Dad out of their room and sending him to sleep on the couch while she crashed around and knocked things over.  Mom, cursing out my third grade teacher for daring to suggest that she might have a drinking problem.  

            Mom, telling me what a screw-up I was.  Mom, telling me what a disappointment I was.  Mom, begging me to stop being such a damn worthless human being so she could stop drinking and start living like a normal human being again.  Mom, asking me why the hell I bothered to write when there were more important things to do.   Mom.  Mom in the car.  Mom with her flask.  Mom crying because I'd just gotten my first D and why the hell couldn't I be more like Rick and pay attention in school and not be such a _damn worthless piece of shit never should've had you son??_  Mom, screaming while the steering wheel bucked in her hands.  Mom, bathed in darkness.  Mom, bathed in blood.

            Mom.  Dead.

            I shuddered, sank to my knees in the grass.

            "I can't do this," I whispered.

            It was too soon.

            _It was six years ago!!_

            It felt like yesterday.  God, it felt like _today_.  Two minutes ago.  _Now_.  And, it was pathetic and sad, but ever since her death, everything had been going just great for me in everything I'd failed at while she was alive.  I started getting straight A's in all my classes, got one of the leads in the school musical, had a piano solo in concert band, won first place in a county writing contest.  It was as if, with my mother out of my life, the things that'd been holding me back were suddenly stripped away, and everything in my life just fell into the perfect order it'd been striving for all along.  I was the perfect student, the perfect everything I tried.

            But, God, it felt so empty.  It felt so...fake.  

            "Ryan?"  A concerned voice from behind me broke through my thoughts, and I realized with a start that I was still kneeling on the grass, hands pressed over my eyes like I was trying not to cry.

            I stood up as fast as I could, turned around and managed a smile.  "Will," I greeted.  "Hi."  
            Will, whom I'd spoken with a few times at school but generally didn't associate with, stepped out of the shadows--he must've just gotten here, I reasoned, since he was coming from the parking lot--and started walking towards me.  A frown was creasing at his brow, but other than that, he was as perfect as ever.  Long, silken chestnut hair that swept around him like a cape, broad shoulders, eyes of liquid amber, and a face that was as beautiful as any girl's but somehow not at all feminine.  

            I usually saw Will in the crisp white dress shirt of our school uniforms, but now he wore an elegant blue blazer over a white button-up, both so expertly tailored to his muscular figure that I wondered if the rumors of his father's wealth were true.  Whatever the case, an aura of money rippled in the air around him, glistened off his perfectly-bronzed skin like sunshine through the hazy clouds of youth.

            He stopped beside me a moment later, and he was still frowning.  His hands were tucked into the pockets of his slacks, I noticed, and his shoes were so well-polished that they gleamed mirror-like in the moonlight.  "Are you all right?" he asked.  "Did you fall?"  
            I felt the blush creeping into my cheeks but fought it.  No.  No, I was not going to give this away again, I was _not_ going to play the tortured adolescent part anymore.  Firm inner nod.  "Yes," I lied.  I laughed a little, and even though it sounded strained to my own ears, I doubted he could pick up on it.  "I must've slipped on the grass or something."  I shrugged, just like any innocent, tripping person would do.

            He was still frowning_.  Change the subject, change the subject!_

            "I didn't know you were coming to this," I commented cheerily.  

            The words felt fake and vile on my tongue, but, no.  Now was _not_ the time to wallow in the past.  Now was the time to push it away and deal with it later, damn it.  

            Will relaxed a little at my words, gave a little shrug that sent his hair fluttering down over his shoulders in little silken waves.  "I wasn't planning on it," he said.  "I usually don't bother with parties much."  He smiled.  "But, my cousin insisted that I come.  He used to go to our school a few years ago, perhaps you remember him?  Stephan Manes?  He and my aunt and uncle moved out of the state when we were in...oh, I suppose it would've been second or third grade, and--"  
            "It was third," I whispered.  I felt numb all over.  Stephan?  Here?  And, throwing a party I just happened to be attending?

            Will nodded, not seeming to notice the troubled expression on my face.  "You're right, it _was_ third grade.  I remember, because we were in Mrs. Arnold's class, and she was the one who announced that he was leaving to all of us.  There was that goodbye party, and...yes."  He smiled, seemed to come back to the present.  "How on earth did you remember that?"  
            I looked at him in sudden panic.  "I don't know," I managed.  "I just...just remembered."  It was difficult to swallow, but I did.  It was even more difficult to keep on breathing, but I did that, too.  "S-So, what is he doing back here?"  
            Will's smile softened.  "He missed home, I suppose, like anyone who leaves this place.  He was skipped ahead a grade after he moved, and so he's already graduated.  He's going to be going to college in town.  Anyway."  He studied me for a moment, then pointed towards the tent and the far-off shouts of teenage merriment.  "He's probably wondering where I am by now.  I told him I would be here to help set things up, but I was kept late at work, and...well--"  He smiled.  "--no use boring you with that.  Are you ready to go in, or did you want to stay out here for awhile longer?"  He frowned a little.  "You _were_ planning on going over there at some point, weren't you, Ryan?"  
            "Yes," I answered a little too quickly.  "O-Of course I was.  I was just...w-well, I tripped, and then you came out here, a-and..."  I dug my spurs into my mental steed, skidded to a stop and tightened my grip on the reins.  "Let's go," I said shortly.  My cheeks were burning, I could feel them, but Will didn't seem to notice.  Just as well, I supposed, since he was Stephan's cousin.  His _cousin_!  How did I never know that?  
            Then again, I mused as we walked towards the tents, there were probably a lot of things I didn't know about Stephan.  And, good God, vice versa.

            I wondered if he still thought I was a girl.

---


	3. Chapter Three

**Summer Thunder**

**Chapter 3**

The slam of the screen door saved me from the rest of the memory--at least for now.

"Ry!" Ken called.  He'd shut off the lawnmower, leaving a thick and deafening silence in its absence. 

"In here," I said.  A moment later, there came the sound of sneakers slapping against the kitchen tile, followed by the whisper of shoes on carpet.  A shadow fell over me from behind the couch, and I found myself staring up at Ken's familiar fanged grin.  

"Takin' a nap?"  
  


I managed a thin smile.  "Not exactly."  Groaning a little, I latched onto the armrest of the couch and hauled myself into a sitting position, then patted at the cushion beside me.  

Ken gave a little nod and vaulted over the back of the couch, landing with a jarring bounce just beside me.  I didn't think about the fact that he was covered in grass clippings until he'd already spread half of them over the cushions.  Ah, well.  A white couch was just asking for trouble, anyway.

"So," he said, brushing at his fiery hair with his fingers, "you ready to tell me what was goin' on with you last night, or do I hafta play @#($*&@$ twenty questions?"

My lips quirked upwards.  "Twenty questions might be fun."  
  


Ken let out a sigh in a huff of air, rolled his eyes at the ceiling.  "All right, all right.  Have it your way, Ryan."  He grumbled under his breath for a few seconds, then he turned to me.  A frown creased his brow.  "What happened last night?"

"They have to be yes or no questions, Ken."  
  


"Yes or no?  What the @(*$&!?  How am I supposed to @(*$&$ guess when they're only @(*$&@$ yes or no questions!?!"

I smiled despite myself.  "That's what makes it challenging."  
  


"Challenging," he scoffed.  "Fine, then, here's a @(#$*&$ yes or no question for ya.  Are you gonna tell me what happened last night?"  
  


"Hmmm.  I think...no."  
  


"Whaaa?  Why not?!"  
  


"That's not a yes or no question, Ken."  
  


"@(*$&@#($*&@#(*$&@#$*(@&#$!"

I grinned. "That's not one, either."  Noticing that Ken's face was starting to darken towards the shade of his hair, I decided to give him a break.  "Sorry.  Nothing really happened.  I just felt like going home."  
  


Ken raised a doubtful eyebrow.  "Right.  I don't believe that for a @$(*&$ minute, Ry.  C'mon, man. I'm your friend, right?  It's not like I'm gonna go tell everybody what happened or somethin'.  I'm only askin' 'cause--"  His gaze suddenly shifted to the floor.  "Well, 'cause I...well..."  He mumbled something incoherent.

I smiled.  "What was that, Ken?"  
  


"Because...uhh...because rmmhmm-mmrmm-mm."

"Whaaaaaaaaaat?"  
  


Ken scowled.  "'Cause I @$(*&$ care about you, okay? Geez."  
  


And, just like that, I knew that I was going to tell him.  I was going to sit here and share with this boy every detail of what had happened to me, regardless of what he might think of me aftewards or how it might change our friendship.  I was going to tell him.  And, all because he told me that he cared.

_Starved for attention much?_

"It's a long story," I said quietly.  "And, it doesn't really start with just last night."  
  


Ken shrugged--he'd propped his sneakers up on the coffee table, now sat with hands clasped in his lap and his head resting against the back of the couch.  His neck twisted towards me.  "That's okay, I got time.  Twenty minute lemonade break, remember?"  
  


I grimaced.  "This, ah, might take a little longer than twenty minutes."  
  


"Why?  You gonna tell me your @$#(*&$ life story or somethin'?"  
  


"Not exactly...but, the story starts around third grade."  
  


"THIRD @#$&*$ GRADE!  Daaaaaamn!  In that case, gimme a minute."  
  


"For what?"  
  


He planted his feet on the carpet, stood up, and started towards the kitchen.  "I gotta get some lemonade _now_, y'know?  If this starts in third grade, I'm gonna need somethin' to drink by the end."  
  


*****

So many memories go hazy after enough time has passed.  They start to get shadowy; uncertain.  You start to wonder if maybe things really did happen the way you remember them happening, or if maybe the years and the changes in your life have colored your memories just like they've colored your future.  But, there are some memories, regardless of importance or time, that stay with you, crystal and perfect and untouched by age.  I had a few of those during my eighteen years--one was a time when I was about four years old, around Christmas time, when Mom and Dad took us all to the KinderPhoto place in the mall to have our pictures taken for the Christmas cards.  Another, a little clearer, is my first day of school, when I walked up to the lunch counter and realized that I couldn't just have more pudding if I wanted to; it cost money.

And, then, there was third grade.   

It was late summer, leaning into September and the first day of school, and we'd just moved into town from Altoona.  Kory was terrified of the prospect of going to a new school, trying to make new friends, so I took her to the park down the street to calm her down, maybe let her meet some of the kids before we had to see them in classes...and, I don't know.  As there isn't terribly much physical development present in third grade, and as our hair was about the same length, all the kids we ran into there thought we were sisters--twins, even.  And, even though I guess, in retrospect, it was a dumb thing to do, we just went along with it, because it was _funny._  We had that great sense of beating the system, or of having some vast inside joke that nobody else got.  

If I'd known, then, just how much trouble I was going to cause for myself so many years later, I'd never have gone along with it for so long.  I'd have said, "_Actually_, I'm a _boy_," and ended it all right at the start--but, I didn't, and so in a strange way, I suppose I deserved every bit of misery that one little lie caused me.

We'd been at the park for maybe an hour and a half, hanging out with a bunch of second and third graders and taking turns pushing each other on the swings, when somebody got the bright idea that we should all play a _game_.  

_Great,_ I thought.  _A game! _

I was thinking we were going to play tag or hide and seek or jail break or something like that, but nooooo.  We were going to play _wedding._

"All the boys go stand over there," a girl with the blond ponytail said, jabbing a finger at the jungle gym, "and all the girls come stand by me."  
  


For maybe a half a second, my feet were ahead of my brain, and I started walking for the jungle gym, but luckily, Kory snagged my arm in time and pulled me over to stand with the girls.  I was getting a dark, kind of sick feeling in my stomach, like I knew that something bad was about to happen, but I couldn't focus on it well enough to do anything about it.  And then, before I knew it, the blond girl was counting us up and grinning and announcing that, just like in musical chairs or something, the boys and girls would have to find each other, "get married," and find a place to live before they were all taken up.  

"Whaddya do when you get married?" some kid asked.

The girl gave a big smile, took a long step away from us, and started moving towards the boys.  "I'll show you," she said.  And then, she walked up to a boy, grabbed onto the collar of his shirt, and pulled him along with her.  They stopped in the center of the sand box, which was the desert separating the boys from the girls, and the girl took the boy's hand in hers.  "I do!" she announced.  Then, in a harsh whisper:  "Say, 'I do!'"

The boy, who was looking kind of confused and more than a little afraid, opened his mouth.  "I-I...I do," he managed. 

The girl grinned.  And then, she put her hands on his shoulders, drew him close, and..._kissed him on the mouth._

I must've given a little shriek, because Kory elbowed me in the stomach...but, I couldn't get my mouth to close.  She...she wanted...she wanted us to...to...?

_Dammmmmit._

The blond girl started going through the rest of the rules (both people had to say, "I do," no sharing houses with other couples, no settling in the sandbox, no stealing wives or husbands away from other people unless they wanted to go), but I wasn't paying all that much attention, as I was struggling frantically to come up with some excuse to _leave_.  Kory, for some reason, didn't seem to realize that me playing this game meant me kissing a _boy_, because every time I tried to catch her eye to motion that we leave, she gave me a glare that clearly said, "Shh.  Pay attention."

It wasn't until the blond girl said, "GO!" that I realized my salvation.

_It's a game, right?  So, I'll just...I'll just *lose*.  Hehehehehee...Ryan, you're a genius.  A *moron*...but, a genius._

Unfortunately, Stephan Manes had other ideas.

As soon as that girl set things off, there was a mad dash across the sand box--girls slipping, pushing each other out of the way, ducking and dodging while the boys stood there like deer in headlights and waited and ohhh, it was crazy.  And, like a good loser, I stayed right where I was, watched the chaos, and waited for an opportunity to slip away.  

Before I could, though, there was a little rustling sound off my right shoulder, and just as I was turning to dash off and hide in the ice cream parlor across the street, there was something warm on my arm.  I spun around, startled, and came face to face with...

"Hi."  It was a boy, a few inches taller than I was, with short silvery hair and eyes that glittered like gold in the sun.  And, even though every muscle in my body was screaming, _GO GO GO RUNNNNNNN!!!!_ there was just something about the way he was looking at me that froze me in my tracks, something about that slight twist to his lips that just...wouldn't let me leave.  

"Hi," I managed.  

_This is dumb.  This is dumb this is dumb this is wronnnnngggg.  Ryan!  Snap out of it!_

"So," the boy said--he was still smiling at me, and it was such a weirdly-_shy_ smile that it made me smile, too.  "You, um...wanna marry me?"  
  


_No.  Of COURSE not.  I am a BOY.  You are a BOY.  So...  _

"Sure," I said.

His smile widened, showed a line of straight white teeth.  "Cool.  I'm Stephan."  
  


"I'm Ry--"  I broke off, flushed.  "I'm Riley," I amended quickly, almost stumbling over the unfamiliar name. "But...but, everybody just calls me 'Ry.'"

"Ry," he murmured.  

It was really strange, hearing him say my name--I don't know why exactly, but there was just something about _hearing_ it...I don't know.  I didn't have long to think about it, though, because before I knew it, something I _really_ wasn't prepared for happened.

We were supposed to say our I do's, I knew we were...but, somehow, we skipped that part, and before I knew what was going on, there were hands on my shoulders and he was leaning in and 

_Oh my GOD, he's gonna--!!!!!_

Something warm pressed against my lips.

And...it didn't feel wrong.  It didn't feel bad.  It felt...

I closed my eyes, feeling suddenly warm all over, but kind of dizzy, too, and tried vainly to focus on just what was happening to me.  It was...it was so _weird_, because I'd never been kissed before in my life except on the cheek or on the forehead, and now there were lips on _my_ lips, and they were warm and soft and...agggghhhhh...!!  It felt _good_, I found myself thinking miserably.  I _liked_ it.  I mean, it wasn't anything disgusting like I'd seen older kids doing, with tongues and...eww.  No. It was just...just his lips against mine.  And, even before I started to think about the fact that it wasn't _supposed_ to feel good when you were a boy and you kissed another boy, I knew that it _did_ feel good, and that it was something I wanted to do again.  Maybe...maybe more than once.

But, then, he was pulling back, and suddenly my lips were cool and alone again.

"C'mon," Stephan said, taking my hand and pulling me with him, "let's go find a house before they're all taken."

As I stumbled along behind him, I couldn't help but notice that Kory was standing with her own "husband" by the monkey bars, staring at me with her mouth hanging open and shock in her eyes.

_Well??_ I glared at her, _what did you THINK was gonna happen if I played this stupid game??_

But, then, Stephan was tugging me over to the swingset, and there was no more time for sending telepathic glares to my sister.  

~*~


	4. Chapter Four

**AN:**  Huuuuuuge thanks to everyone who's reviewed!!  Oh, and in answer to sunandshadow's question…hai.  Stephan is Chuin. ^_~

**Summer Thunder**

**Chapter 4**

Ken was staring at me with wide eyes, mouth hanging open like he couldn't find the strength to close it.  "_Sh...shit_, man," he managed at last.  "You...you @#$(*&$ _kissed_..."  
  


I nodded, not looking at him, feeling suddenly ashamed.  "Yeah," I said quietly.  "I-I mean, I didn't mean for it to happen, but it...it did, and..."  I sighed.  "Sorry. You asked."  
  


There was a long pause.

_I can't believe I told him that.  God, what if he hates me now?  What if...what if I've just lost my best friend because I couldn't keep my stupid mouth shut??_

"Well?"  
  


I blinked, coming out of my thoughts and actually turning to look at him...and, he was just sitting there calmly, staring at me and lifting an eyebrow.  "W...Well what?" I managed.

"_Well,_" he repeated irritably, "what happened next?  That's not the @$(&*$ end of the story, right?"  
  


"Eh?  Well...no, but..."  I shook my head.  "Ken, doesn't that story make you...I dunno..."  The flush creeping back into my cheeks, I folded my arms over my stomach, tucked my chin down towards chest and stared at the floor. "Doesn't it make you hate me?"  
  


Again, that damned silence.  I closed my eyes, dreading his next words, wanting to go crawl up to my room and slip under the covers and curl up and cry--God, what was I going to tell my father?  Hadn't thought that part through at all...  Because, I mean, if Ken hated me now, he wasn't gonna want to come cut our grass every week, I was sure, and he wasn't going to stop by anymore to look in on Kory when Dad and I were both out, and how was I going to explain that?  I mean, it wasn't like I could just sit him down and tell him the story and--

"Ryan," Ken said, snapping me out of my thoughts, "I already @#(*&$@ know that you're gay."

...

_Wha?_

I opened my eyes, turned to look at him.  "Wha?"  
  


He shook his head, fiery hair hanging down over his eyes, covering up parts of his face--but, I could still see his lips, and they were..._smiling??_  "Ry, you're a @#$(*&$ piece'a work, ya know that?  A @($*&@$ piece'a work."  And, then, he looked at me--looked me straight in the eye, and I saw that he _was_ smiling, and that there was no hate in his eyes, and I was so happy that I almost cried...but, I didn't, of course, because this was _Ken_, and he would rather have you punch him in the jaw than cry in front of him.  

"Look," he went on, "it's not like it's @*$(&$ obvious or somethin'.  But, Ry, I've been your friend since we were in @#$(*&$ grade school.  I know ya well enough to know that ya don't like girls--not like that.  An' it doesn't take a @#($*&$ rocket scientist to figure out that maybe, process of elimination all that, if ya don't like girls, ya might @*($&$ like guys."

I blinked, amazed and astonished and all those other good a-words that mean a person is about to keel over dead from shock.  "But...but you...I...I don't...how did..."

Rolling his eyes, Ken stretched forward, latched onto the glass of lemonade he'd had sitting on the People Magazine on the coffee table, and handed it to me.  "Here," he said.  "Get some @$(&$ sugar in your system, _then_ try to @($*&@$# talk."  
  


My fingers felt rubbery, but I managed to hold onto the glass anyway, bring it to my lips.  The stuff tasted like Ken'd poured about a half a cup of sugar into it, making it waaaaay too sweet and kind of grainy, but I felt the sugar slam into my system with a jolt, and felt _awake_ so suddenly that it couldn't've been anything but psychosomatic.  Not that it mattered, of course, as long as the result was there--but, being Observant To A Fault, my mind made a little note of that for future reference.

Clearing my throat a little, I returned the glass to its place atop Jennifer Aniston's forehead, and then leaned back in my seat and heaved a deep sigh.  "Okay," I said.  "Okay.  Better now."

Ken was raising that eyebrow again, I could feel it.  "Ya sure?"

I nodded.  "Yeah.  Yeah.  I'm good."  
  


"'kay.  Think ya can @$*(&$ tell me the rest of the story, now?  I gotta get finished mowin' sometime, ya know?"

"I...I guess...but, Ken, really--this isn't...weird for you?  Hearing about, well, me kissing _guys?"_  I blushed.

He laughed.  He actually...actually..._laughed_.  "You're really @($*&@$ worried about that, aren'tcha?"

I gave a weak nod.  
  


And, suddenly, there was a hand on my arm, and I turned to see that Ken was sitting there just beside me, giving me a stern but surprisingly-kind stare that kept me frozen in place while he spoke.

"Look.  Ry."  His eyes were wide and earnest, his voice strangely quiet.  "There're a lotta people out there--'specially around here--who might feel that way.  There're a lot of 'em who'd hate you right now 'cause of what you just said.  But, seriously, man, I'm not one of 'em, 'kay?  You're my friend, and you've been my friend since we were @($*&@$ kids.  I wouldn't ditch ya if ya robbed a @$(*&$ bank, so why the hell would I ditch ya just 'cause you like guys 'stedda girls?  It's not a big deal, it really isn't."  He shrugged.  "Some people like blonds, some people like brunettes--some people like guys.  Doesn't really @($*&$ make a difference to me."

_He's gonna kill me for this, but..._

Tears stinging in my eyes, I flung myself at him and gave him a quick, tight hug, my cheek pressing against his shoulder, my arms wrapped around his chest.  And, even though he stiffened at first, probably from the shock of it all, a few seconds later...he relaxed.  He brought his arms up over my back and held me close for a second.

"If anybody @$(&$ gives you trouble," he said in a low, shaky voice, "_ever_, I'll @(*$&@$ kill 'em.  Just so ya know that."

I smiled through the tears, feeling maybe a million times better than I had about five minutes earlier.  "Thanks, Ken," I managed.  My voice didn't come out as much more than a hoarse little whisper, because I was pretty busy trying not to start sobbing, and I guess he figured that out.  He grabbed onto my shoulders suddenly and pulled me up from him, stared at me with wide eyes.

"Aww, _shit_, Ry!  Don't @#$(*&$ _cryyyyyy_...!!"

I laughed, the tears still trickling over my cheeks, and brought a hand up to wipe them away.  "S-Sorry," I croaked.  "I'm just...I'm just so..."  
  


"You're just a @$(&$ stereotype, aren'tcha?"  He grinned.  "Now, stop cryin' and tell me what happened at the picnic.  That dumb neighbor kid is gonna start playin' on the lawnmower again if I don't get out there pretty damn soon."  
  


I gave one last sniffle, then settled down a little and nodded.  "Okay."  Deep breath.  "Well, I got to the picnic around ten, and I...I ran into Will over by the parking lot.  He told me that Stephan was his cousin, and..."  I shrugged.  "And, we went over to the party together."

Ken raised an eyebrow, arms folded speculatively over his chest.  "Hmm."  
  


"Hmm?"  
  


"I always @$(&$ thought that guy might be..."  
  


I smacked him on the shoulder with my palm.  "Not together like _that_ together," I told him, sticking out my tongue.  Of course, I _did_ actually get the vibe that Will might be bi, but...well, now wasn't the time for that discussion.  "Anyway," I went on, "so we got over to the tent, and Will was gonna go over and see Stephan, but I didn't want to because of...well, because of what happened in third grade.  But, Will _insisted_, so I went along with him."  
  


"@$(*&$ dragged ya, huh?"  
  


I sighed.  "Yeah.  Besides..."  A grin slipped onto my lips, and the Wonderful Almighty Freedom of what we'd just talked about liberated me enough to add, "And, besides, he's _reeeeeeeeeally cute_.  I would've probably stuck my head in a flaming barrel of gasoline if he'd asked me to."

Ken snickered, but didn't say anything, so I continued.  

"So, we finally got over to Stephan.  He was standing over by that buffet table they had set up, talking to a bunch of girls, and..."  My voice went suddenly quiet, as the scene played out in my head and I remembered, again, how it'd ended.  I bent forward and took another quick gulp of Ken's lemonade before I felt strong enough to go on.

*****

He froze when he saw me. 

He'd been talking, saying something terribly amusing from the way all the girls were grinning at him, but...but, he trailed off when Will and I walked up, jaw going slack, and stared at me like I was some kind of apparition.  And, it was only right then that I remembered that I was wearing a tank top, only right then that I realized that there was no way he could think I was a girl now, with my nice flat male chest glaring at him like this.  God, what was he gonna think?  He'd probably hate me, and rightly so--I'd tricked him into kissing a _boy_, and...and, gaaaaaaah, what the hell was I even doing at this stupid picnic, anyway??

But, then, he smiled.  "Hello, Ryan."  
  


_R...Ryan??_  _He..._

"It's been a long time."  
  


I was so shocked that I didn't answer for a long minute, my mouth working without sound...and, then, I snapped out of it.  "Y-Yeah!  It's been...it's been a long time."  
  


_He knows I'm a guy?  He knows I'm a guy, and he's not going to tie me to a chair and beat me up or something??_

There was a long, awkward pause...

And, then, Will had stepped past me and given his cousin a quick, affectionate hug.  "So," Will commented with a dazzling smile, "you just couldn't stay away, could you?"  
  


Stephan matched the smile, and despite myself, I couldn't help but note the family resemblance.  Aside from both being insanely good looking (scared out of my mind or not, it was hard not to notice _that_), their eyes were very nearly the same shade, and their hair seemed to be of the same silky, shampoo-commercial texture, despite being different colors.  Of course, Will was muscular while Stephan was just skinny, and Will was also _definitely_ more attractive, but they were both tall and dashing and had smiles that could kill--and, for the first time, I understood the flock of girls.

But...also for the first time, I understood why Stephan hadn't been upset to see me, and why he wasn't going to hate me for being a guy.

He was gay.

*****

Ken burst out laughing.  "Well, I coulda @#($*&$ toldja that, ya moron!  What the hell, Ry!?  Thought you guys were supposed to some kinda @$(*&$ radar or somethin'."  
  


I smacked him with a pillow.  "That's a myth.  I'm just as clueless as everybody else about who's gay and who's not.  I mean, I think it has to do more with watching people and spotting patterns in their voices and their movements and stuff, but...but that's all it is, really.  I can't just look at a guy and know if he's gay or not, anymore than you can."  I lifted an eyebrow.  "Although, you _did_ know about Stephan...and me...and Will..."  
  


"Aww, shut the hell up.  I heard about it from some guy at school."  
  


I grinned, but decided to stop teasing him--at least for now.  "Well, anyway, _I_ didn't know he was gay.  I mean, who would think a gay guy would want to move back into this place, when he could be somewhere where he wouldn't have to hide?  I guess it just never crossed my mind before then."  
  


"What was it that set ya off?  I mean, how'd ya figure it out right then?"  
  


I was silent for a moment, running the scene through my mind again; I chewed a little absently on my lower lip.  "I guess it was a lot of things.  Lots of little clues all coming together at the same time.  The way he and Will hugged--d'you ever notice that gay guys hug people a _lot_ differently than straight guys?--and the way he was looking at the girls, and the fact that he didn't look upset to find out that I was a guy, and...I don't know.  It was a lot of stuff."

"So, what @(*&@$@$ happened next, huh?"

I sighed.  "Well, he wanted to talk to me privately, so w--"  
  


I broke off, the chiming of the doorbell slicing through my words.  Ken jumped.

"Who the @$(&@$ could that be?" he muttered as I rose to my feet, started moving towards the door.

I didn't think to peer through the window and see who was there--why would I?  Small town, neighbors dropping by all the time, friends coming to visit without warning...so, I didn't look.  I just walked up to the door, grabbed onto the knob, and swung it open.  

I regretted it immediately.

I barely got a glimpse of their faces before one of them had lunged forward, grabbed me by my collar, and dragged me outside.  

*****


End file.
